


Noises in the Night

by SirPsychoSexy



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Bad Puns, Blow Jobs, M/M, My First Fanfic, Please Don't Kill Me, Sleep
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-06
Updated: 2014-08-06
Packaged: 2018-02-12 03:02:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,212
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2093184
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SirPsychoSexy/pseuds/SirPsychoSexy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>why the hell would you read it if I spoiled it for you here</p>
            </blockquote>





	Noises in the Night

There was no moon in the sky as Dr Watson stepped out of the hackney at the door of his London home. A layer of thick cloud blotted out the stars meaning the only lights in the street where the glowing orange street lamps and the blinding headlights of the cab, soon those too were gone as the driver speed off into the darkness to collect his next fare.

John’s eyes were heavy with sleep as he pulled out the keys to the home he shared with the world’s only consulting detective, Sherlock Holmes. As he stumbled up the stairs a rumbling in his stomach reminded him that he hadn’t eaten since the start of his eight hour shift. Moving through the kitchen John threw a sandwich together the lack of sleep robbing him of his usual military precision. Collapsing on the couch the good doctor was hit by the realisation that he wasn’t going to make it upstairs to his bedroom, finishing his sandwich John pulled a blanket over himself and settled into the couch for the night.

When John awoke it was still dark, surprised he wondered what could have woken him when he was so tired, then he heard it again. A noise, inside the flat. His military training kicking in John became the soldier instantly awake and alert. In a second he was on his feet noting all his surroundings preparing for any eventuality. The noise came again, from Sherlock’s room. John grabbed the closest thing to him that could be used as a weapon which just happened to be his old cane. John was hit with a sudden rush of nostalgia remembering how he first met Sherlock and started this life in London before he remembered the gravity of the situation. Tightening his grip on the cane John moved through the flat past the bathroom towards Sherlock’s room. He hadn’t heard any noise in a while and he considered just going back to sleep, God knows he needed it, but if there was anything that defined Dr. John Watson’s life it was his curiosity and sense of adventure, it was these two things that got him into trouble as a kid, led him to join the army, got him shot in Afghanistan, made him move in with Sherlock, follow Sherlock in a Study in Pink and all their adventures since. Now it made him push open the door to Sherlock’s room and see what waited inside.

The inside of Sherlock’s room was much as one would expect it to be, a mess. Clothes strewn all over the floor unnameable artefacts piled against the wall, books open everywhere and in the middle curled on a mattress like a dragon on his mountain of gold was the detective himself.

Seeing there was no unknown intruder in the room John placed the cane by the door frame and turned to go back to his place on the couch but before he could take a single step he was stopped by a moan, a moan that sounded suspiciously like a name. At this point Johns curiosity was running in overdrive and he was moving on autopilot as he crossed the threshold of Sherlock’s room. Picking his way across the assorted debris on the floor John arrived at the side of his friend’s bed.

Sherlock lay on his side his legs slightly curled behind him, his long black locks cascading over his face. The sounds emanating from his lips hinting at the type of dream he was having.

Suddenly Sherlock grunted and twisted. John shot a look at the door which suddenly seemed miles away after a moment of panic he realised Sherlock was still sound asleep enjoying his dream. In this new position, lying flat on his back the cover half on half off, John could see clearly just how much Sherlock was enjoying the dream. He was enjoying it A LOT. And John could see he had a lot to enjoy it with.

John stood, rooted to the spot, his gaze locked on Sherlock’s impressive fully erect eight inch, circumcised penis. John couldn’t deny that he had thought about Sherlock in a sexual way before, but he’d never acted on it. Then again he’d never had this much stimulus right in front of his face before either. There was no doubt about it this was sexy and his body was quick to confirm it as he, rose to the occasion, if you will.

The question now was what to do next. Something in Johns mind told him this shouldn’t go any further, that he should go back to the couch or upstairs to his room. But screw that curiosity had John Watson firmly in its grasp and John Watson wanted something else in _his_ grasp.

Sherlock was now fully settled into his new position and showed no signs of waking or moving. John inched closer and gingerly sat on the edge of Sherlock’s bed by his feet. He reached out slowly his fingertips gently brushing the underside of Sherlock’s penis. When Sherlock continued to sleep soundly John’s confidence grew and he took a gentle hold of Sherlock’s impressive cock, then slowly started stroking the shaft. At this point John dropped his left hand to his crotch and started massaging his own growing hard on.

Turning his focus back to Sherlock he started paying more attention to his technique, building a steady rhythm, sliding his thumb over the head on alternate strokes, soon a pearl of pre-cum appeared and John couldn’t resist but to lean over to lick it off. As he was leaning in he acted on impulse and took the head into his mouth. Sherlock tasted slightly bitter on his tongue, but a nice bitter. Pulling off John leant down again and licked up Sherlock’s cock all the way from the base to the tip. As he did so Sherlock let out another moan, this time the name crystal clear flowing over his tongue and between his lips _“John”_. That was it, John was determined now determined to finish what he started. Dropping his head once more to Sherlock’s considerable length John swirled his tongue round the head then lowered his mouth slowly, steadily down Sherlock’s cock, until he gagged and could go no further. Coming up for air John steadied his resolve and went back to his task this time not stopping till his nose met the curls of Sherlock’s lightly trimmed pubic hair. Achieving this was enough to bring John to his own climax. As he groaned his release with Sherlock’s cock still in his mouth that impressive organ tensed and John knew Sherlock was close.

Now that his left hand was free John brought it up to massage Sherlock’s balls while his right pumped the base of the shaft. Johns head was bobbing like a buoy on the water his tongue giving little flicks across the head of Sherlock’s cock until the whole of Sherlock’s body tensed, his cock twitched in Johns mouth and he came and came and came all the while pumping into John's mouth. John swallowed it all and stood up.

As he walked to the door a whisper floated to him as if carried by a gentle breeze,

_“I love you…..John.”_


End file.
